


Croc

by MilesAK



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Horror
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-03-05 03:54:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3104618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MilesAK/pseuds/MilesAK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joker has devastated Arkham Asylum and escaped once again. Amid the chaos, nobody notices the escape of an enraged reptilian.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Out of the Cage

An enraged reptilian emerged from the sewers of Arkham Aslyum, having made his way through a large crack in the wall. A crack he was not responsible for. The scales of the beast glistened in the only light that had remained intact after the assault on Arkham - a single, broken, dim flicker. The rest of the room was just as decrepit, the reception of Arkham Asylum. Not a pretty sight on a normal day, much less the day The Joker escaped, for the last time...

After yet another flawless escape by the infamous clown prince of crime, The Joker had taken nearly half of the asylum with him. He found it so easy; so funny. After all, The Joker never stayed in Arkham for longer than a week. This time, however, he'd left a path of destruction that had unleashed a wave of Gothams criminals into the streets, and the asylum security was all but demolished.

Mostly, only feeble crooks had escaped from the more lowly part of the Asylum, but Croc was different. He'd been down there for years now, thanks to the caped crusader. Rotting away, starving, treated like an animal - he decided, if he was to be treat like one, he might as well become one. Then again, Croc was as close to an animal as can be. His scaly flesh was solidified by his inhuman muscles. His musky green figure was indeed harder than rock, and could withstand almost any shot. Surrounding his split and pointed tongue were razor sharp teeth, a contrast of yellow, and crimson. 

He was patient, but as time went by, his anger grew, and grew. When gloomily gothic Arkham walls collapsed around him, he thought not of escaping, nor freedom. He thought of vengeance, he craved vengeance. The Bat had done this to him. The bat was not the only one to blame. He had allies. Croc would feast on their flesh, break apart their bones, one by one, until finally, he had /him/ alone, he had his scent. He’d find him. Eventually. 

And so he crawled his way out of the shattered sewer structures, occasionally having to bulldoze through debris to find a way through. The inner workings of the Asylum were like a maze, and hidden pathways were found almost weekly by escapees, and Crocs superior sense of smell made finding the surface all that easier. 

He found himself in the reception of what had been his home for far too long. Anyone could tell, this was the work of The Joker. Bodies were laid in different poses in the area, spray paint was scattered on the madhouse walls, and no limp body showed any sign of life. On a selection victims, a trademark grin was carved into the face of the corpses. Croc was clearly none too phased by his surroundings. He was however, hungry... So very hungry. Without hesitation he grabbed the first body he saw, tore off its arm and began his feast. Blood dripped down his jaw as he spat out the grizzly remains of what no longer resembled an arm. He would have had more, but the pigs would no doubt be along shortly, and he needed out. Besides, there would be much better, much, fresher meals once he'd made it back into the heart of Gotham. He kicked down the broken Electric doors and made his way out, a loud, angry growl escaping his throat. 

He was free, the vengeful reptilian was loose at last. Upon figuring the best way off the island, (well, for him) he stomped to a cliffs edge, taking a quick run up before jumping. For his size, he was remarkably fast and agile, and landed a perfect dive into the water with a thunderous crash. From there, he was out of sight, the murky water disguising the predator as he swam with haste back to Gotham with ease. An hour or so had passed before Croc Re-emerged, crawling onto the rocky shore of Gotham, he was drenched, cold and starving. But that only made him all the more dangerous. The animal was out of his cage, and he was as dangerous as ever...


	2. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, this is a short chapter. This isn't the main theme of the story. I just wanted to cover what was happening with The Joker and Batman, so I can get J out of the way as soon as possible. He isn't a main point in this story, and don't worry... He ain't dead.

A mere day later and the beast had returned to the sewers. He had nowhere else to go, but the difference was, he wasn't trapped... The killer was free, and he had further time to think on his vengeance, or more, waiting. He was waiting for the opportune moment to emerge, when they're vulnerable, when The Joker was done with the place.  
The higher powers and people of Gotham were so concerned over the usual fuss of Jokers escape, that it was likely nobody had even noticed that Croc was out of his cell. Not that anyone checked where he was anyway, after all, who wanted to know?  
From up above, the rumbles of explosions and gunfire echoed throughout the sewer system, when the police were scrambled, and weak, then, then he would strike, one by one, he would feast on them…

 

Manic laughter echoed throughout the streets of Gotham – at its centre point was none other than the clown prince of crime himself, The Joker. And, of course his equally as maniacal lady friend, Harley Quinn. It seemed this time, The Joker had truly (If he hadn’t already) lost his marbles. He had no scheme, no violent plots or twists; no agenda.  
Speeding down the freeway in his vintage purple car, The Joker let out squeals of delight as he tossed explosives and vats of laughing gas randomly into the streets around him. Giggling and sighing blissfully beside him was the clown princess, driving as fast as she felt capable of going, and perhaps even faster. To her, this was all a joke. Nobody got hurt in this world, and everything was oh so funny.

Of course, tailing inches behind the lunatics was a long, black car with a raging flame bursting from its rear. This was an all too familiar sight for The Joker… Repeating the same joke, over and over was only bound to get boring eventually, and frankly, he was bored of Batman. In fact, he was sick of him! It was time to settle down, blow up some orphanages and kick out Harley, whose never-ending giggling was angering him more and more every day, which for a man who calls himself “Joker” is saying something.

“Just let it go Batsy! You’re driving me round the bend!” Joker wailed through cracks of laughter.

The scene from the car trailing behind was a complete opposite. A look of sheer concentration glued on the eyes of the bat. Twitching, his finger hovered over the trigger for the explosives on the batmobile. Narrowing his eyes, he locked onto the rear of the car. This was enough. This has to be stopped. Time seemed to slow, and for the first time in a long time, he hesitated. Then he pulled the trigger. Everything changed…


	3. Emergance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crocs plan is to be put into action. But where's the Bat?

The silence of the ever-gothic city surprised Croc. When he emerged from the sewers, there wasn’t a taxi in sight nor a tourist gasping. It was as though the world had simply frozen. This was perfect. As long as nobody was around, nobody could scream and yell about the roaming “monster”. Indeed, the night was the only time to work. He had to admit though, it was unusually quiet. Unsettling even.

Having spent days in the sewers, Croc was surprisingly well informed. He had an underground network of the homeless and deprived. People who’d keep him in-the-know about all the criminal rumours spread over Gotham. What he had heard however, was not what he had predicted, or played into what he had planned.  
The Batman had killed The Joker. So the rumours say, anyway. However, it’s not the first, and most likely not the last time that one "Jack Napier" had been added to the list of dead. And of course, the arguably equally-as-maniacal Batman had been accused of murder more than once. This time though, something was different. Nobody had seen, or heard from the Batman in days. Even more peculiar, nobody had heard from the Joker for just as long. Considering Harleys puddin’ usually couldn’t keep his mouth closed for longer than a minute, this was unusual to say the least.

This was perfect… Croc, after so long imprisoned, had every angle worked out. Not that he was a genius by any means, but after years with only one thing in mind, he didn’t need to be. Now, it was time for him to put his plan into action. First stop, the GCPD…

The police were broken. The search for The Joker and the Batman had left them drained, safe to say they weren’t expecting another major disaster any time soon. Then the unthinkable happened. With a thunderous crash, the doors of the GCPD were flung to the other side of the room, and sprinting through them was the huge, vengeful beast with eyes of fire…  
Most of the cops fled. Others hid under tables. Jim Gordon even, ran! Though he ran elsewhere… Croc was laughing, or maybe growling. He stampeded through the front reception of the police department… Tables and chairs were strewn around the assaulted room. As he ran, the floor beneath him cracked and crumbled, the earth shook and the cops quivered. Bullets began to rain upon Croc, bouncing off his invincible flesh. Growling, his enormous hand wraps around the head of the nearest cop to him, and in one inhuman swing he was thrown through a wall and onto the cold, cruel concrete outside. Running further forward, he came across no more resistance. The doors of the near elevator is ripped open and tossed aside, and he smashes through the roof above, beginning his fast ascension to the top floor, where he knew a certain veteran would be waiting…

A look of utter despair was painted on the face of Jim Gordon. Sure, Croc wasn't anything he hadn't handled before. But this time was different. Croc, was different. The light of the batsignal shone bright into the blackened skies of Gotham. However, no bat, bird or other could be seen. This had never happened before, and truth be told, he’d never expected a day to come where he wouldn’t have the hero to count on. Be it the blackest day, darkest knight, Gothams finest hour or the downfall of a single lonesome criminal, the bat had always been there. Now, when Gotham needed him the most, it’s most spectacular guardian wasn’t there. If he couldn’t be there to stop a beast like Croc, then Jim feared that nobody would be able to… The bat was not going to show. A cold breeze ran through him, and shuddering he turned to a truly petrifying sight. Glaring directly at him was the beast. His eyes glowed like a flame in the haze of the endless rain. The last thing Jim saw before his world turned black is this giant sprinting towards him. Within minutes, both he and Croc had vanished. Without a trace, Croc had escaped untouched, unmatched and his plan working to the letter. Now that Jim was in his grasp, nothing could stop him.


	4. The Cop and the Croc

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim is captured. The bat is nowhere to be seen...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super short chapter here. I guess all my chapters are pretty short. I guess all the books I've enjoyed the most have been ones where the chapters, are short, and to the point. I think one can right so much information that a story loses meaning, and gets boring. And I'm rambling... Enjoy.

Jim Gordon. Righteous and honest; brave and bold. Countless times he’d been in life threatening predicaments, and countless times he had cheated death. The Joker, Catwoman, Penguin, Two Face, even his own son had kidnapped the wise man at some point. None of these were like Croc. None as powerful, perhaps none even as ruthless as Croc. Sure, Joker’s crazy… But for that reason alone, many people survive him. Croc on the other hand… Well, he see’s people as nothing but meat – a meal. Remorseless and brutal, obsessed with slaughter, Croc was the ultimate killing machine.  
The stench of the sewers was enough to make anyone regurgitate their last meal. The pits were grotesque and lonesome…. There was no light at the end of this tunnel. Only an endless view of bleak waste and walls of rotting concrete. Only two beings graced this hell, and only one wanted to be there. The cop. Drenched in his own blood, struggling to breath was the fearless soldier who’d die for his city. From the ceiling drooped a thick line of rope, which led down around Jim’s hands, suspending him above the ground and incapacitating him. All he could see was the ferocious, glowing eyes of the reptilian beast. It’s all he could look at. At any moment he might lunge forward and rip out Gordons gut with his bare teeth – yet no fear crossed the face of the cop. Echoes of grunting and heavy breathing rippled throughout the sewers; only this broke the unbearable silence.  
“Why don’t you just kill me?” escapes the lips of Gordon. The beast finally stands up, and takes slow, methodical steps towards Jim…  
“You serve a far greater purpose. You’re needed” Cackles the croc, his large hand sliding up and around his throat. “Nothing would please me more than to feast on your flesh.. But you are a mere starter. I need you to claim the main course…”


	5. The man in the Red Hood

Did he do it? Did the Batman really kill the Joker? Did he try to and did The Joker escape? Or was The Joker gone for good? Good riddance.

These are questions not even the worlds’ greatest detective could solve; not even the man himself, the Batman! He doesn’t know if his nemesis has fallen for the last time… Doesn’t know if he killed him. More importantly, he didn’t know if he meant to kill him. He was the protector of Gotham – The Dark Knight. He couldn’t kill, could he? It all happened so fast…

Wayne. Batman. Neither had been seen for days. Not even Alfred, his trusty butler and loyal friend was sure of the man’s whereabouts. 

Only one man knew. The man who had the bat tied up in an old, abandoned funeral home, clad in a red hood… The same questions tormented the crusaders mind as he awoke from his slumber, and… thump! The crack of a crowbar meeting soft, human flesh echoed throughout the room. He knew. The man in the hood knew just where to strike.

“Never thought you’d cross that line old friend. Did you do it for me?” The figure chuckled, glaring the Bat in the eye. “Or did you do it for you?” His voice dissolved into an animalistic growl as he struck the hero with yet another bone-crushing blow. He didn’t flinch though. His eyes simply remained locked on the hooded anti-hero. Gritting his teeth, the Batman snarled at the shell that was once his partner, Robin; Jason.

“When you do it? Is it for you, Jason?”

A sickening crack resonated from the Bats chiselled jaw as the hood smashed the crowbar over the bone, shouting; “Don’t call me that! You know me better,” growled the hood. “What’s wrong..? Regret?” The Bat simply shook his head, and returned to his trademark silence. “Why didn’t you kill him sooner!? Could you have?”

A sick cackle emanated from beneath the hood. He turns, looking away from the crusader. His laughter grew, and grew. Until finally, silence. Only a click broke this silence, and the hood fell from the figure. “Oh.. Batsy…” In one swift movement, the man spun to look the Bat in the eye. “You know me better!” Even now, the hero didn’t flinch. His scowl only grew, as he found himself face to face not with Jason Todd, but the demented clown of crime. 

“Could’a, would’a, should’a”

Then, he laughed. Not the Joker… The Batman. He laughed in the face of his arch nemesis, and yanked on his restraints only to make Joker cower back ever so slightly. “Joker… Not just by name anymore. You’re a joke. You’re a shell! How many times have I defeated you? Face it, and give up. You’re never going to win, and do you know why?” The Jokers grin faded, his head tilted. “Enlighten me.”

“I’m not alone, Joker. When you’re gone, you will be forgotten. Because that’s all you are. You’re just a criminal. You’re just scum, and—“The valiant words of the bat are cut off by a piercing, agonising pain. A large, sharp blade forced into his side.

“You just don’t get it, do you bats?” The frowning jester boasted, as he twisted the blade in his flesh. “In the end, you’re as alone as alone as I! In the end, it’s all meaningless, and you! Have! Nobody!”

The Bat raises his head to look the villainous clown in the eye, “Not today…”

And bang! Before Joker could even contemplate what the Batman was talking about, he was pulled backwards by a dark figure, thrown against the wall and, after the sound of fist and jaw… There was silence. And turning to face the tied up hero, was the real boy wonder, Robin. “What took you so long?” Robin ignored that, and quickly untied his mentor – his friend. Scowling across the room at his unconscious nemesis, the Bat rips the blade from his flesh and tosses it to the ground. “You can leave now. I’ve got it from here.” Spoke the Bat, in his signature growl. 

“It’s only a short ride to the GCPD, why not let me take this one Batman?” Robin was obviously a lot younger; lighter. Gotham had not yet extinguished the boy in him. In fact, his flame burned brighter than ever. A flame fuelled by a never-ending desire to seek justice.

“No. I said I’ve got it. Go home, Tim.” He says with a lowered voice as he hoisted the colourful maniac onto his shoulder, and made his way outside. ‘Tim’ had heard this more and more as of late. It was only getting worse. He was only growing more distant… Maybe Gotham no longer needed a Robin. Maybe Batman, no longer needed a robin; no longer needed to be saved. Without saying another word, Robin leaves the opposite direction to Batman. He doesn’t look back…

Upon calling on the Batmobile, Batman throws the silent Jester into the passenger seat and swiftly speeds onwards towards the GCPD. The journey felt long. Too long. Not long enough for him to answer all the questions in his mind. Did he want Joker dead? Did he really want Robin to save him? He was at the peak of human physical conditioning, yet his light was dimmer than ever. Through bloodshot eyes, he races through the night until he arrives at the Gotham City Police Department and hops outside, dragging a stirring Joker with him. Something was wrong. He narrowed his eyes, glaring into the building through smashed, broken doors. Dragging along the limp Joker in a firm grasp, he walks inside, and surveyed his surroundings. Dead cops. Half a dozen. Surely, the chaos that ensued while he was dealing with the clown. Among his men, knelt beside a body was Aaron Cash, a long time officer and friend of both Jim and Batman.

“What happened?” 

Cash turns to him, then looks down. “He’s got him, Batman. Croc. He’s got Gordon…”


End file.
